The anthill erupts,
A deluge floods the Amazon
Of grass and crittery things.
There in the open wound of earth
Lies a fallen gift from the fire
Above that rains embers of fire.
A chunk of life that gives life,
Fallen from the giant walkers,
Its tube shape can feed thousands.
And the water hardens the earth,
The flood done for the day,
They begin their march upon
The gift.

Your voice haunts my dreams,
your touch is so distant it seems.
"Father", I cry.
"Why can't you love me"
You're transparent,
I can see right through,
But after each of your lies,
I still believe you.

Dad, you pass right through my walls,
knocking pictures off
echoing down the halls.

Dad, please.
I will do what you want to love me.
Summon you up,
and hold you tight,
just please tell me that it is alright.

Dad, you're a ghost.
a breath of the past.
Oh how time has gone by so fast.

Never have I ever felt so alone.
Daddy, oh, Daddy,
I fear you're a ghost.

Mercies at  juxtapositional refinement
Abandoned constitutional confinement
Handshakes on the bridged ligaments

The sweet melodious serene dreams fleets
One after the other like peculiar inventions
The mellow scenes of frames realignments

Wonderful crafted words verses paradigm
Harmonic jazz awesomeness, decode freeness
Orchestral spontaneity drills pragmatic energy

Yet, as the gingered steams rise from the hot brew
The scented breeze of life vaticinates with a smile afar
Whispers of "no obligation, no expectations" reverbs..... on and on....on and on

Divorce is the sign of knowledge is out times.* wcw

Empty chair. Sun frowning through blinds on lifeless rooms.
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Singing now to only one. A history of the void. Hollow words.
Know the past. You were there. In everything done.
Boxed up kid's toys. Forgotten gifts. Solitary thoughts.
Echoes of children's voices. Fading to grown up.
No one knows what lurks down the road. Dead end.
Memories of the missing. One way conversations. Unsung songs.
Days without direction. Nights of nothing. Empty bed blues.
Ransacked nostalgia. Random recollections. Loneliness.
     You and I we're like water to the sea,
     What can one without the other be.

  ~mce

´

You  came to me
as a vision
as a mirage
as soft shadows
landing low

Warmly loving
the hot bouncy
paws
and their
delicate dance
across Dali's

Tangible
soundless motions
obssesive mushy
desserted sands
of time's

Kaleidoscopic
fractal falling

Swirling
back into
the theatre of dreams

Tuning a
migrating
midnight to
those silent, evanescent
melodies
yearning
craving
to be played
once more
and adored on longplays

Spiraling and spinning
in my memory
like a skilled
reindeer wafting
wet air through fresh
nostrils, a defiant elegance
fluttering around as colourful
wings move the magnificent
leap of a sinew lyinx
to tremble
among spring greenery

Got to develop gentle moves.
Silent. Soundless. Elegant.